


Hole

by saakaat



Category: Ylvis
Genre: AU-No wives and kids, Erotica, Kink Discovery, M/M, Sibling Incest, Voyeurism, Ylviscest, young ylvis
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-29
Updated: 2015-02-03
Packaged: 2018-03-09 15:22:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,800
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3254666
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/saakaat/pseuds/saakaat
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The hole happened to provide a good vantage point to his brother's bed, with its messy sheets and crumpled duvet. A premium view of the Bård Ylvisåker show.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Observation

**Author's Note:**

> Seen some amazing fics lately exploring the themes of voyeurism, so I wrote a little thing. Enjoy :)

It was tiny, perhaps one centimetre in diameter, situated on the south-facing wall adjacent to the window. Vegard had made the hole by accident when attempting to hang a picture frame. He hadn't realised just how thin and brittle the wall was; although the fact that Vegard could always hear everything Bård did in the adjoining room should've been enough of a giveaway. When he had hammered that nail into the wall he flinched when a little of the plaster immediately cracked and fell away. He removed the nail and cursed to himself. Then he noticed the thin beam of sunlight that shone through the wall. He immediately ran into Bård's room to assess the damage. Fortunately Bård's shelving unit was against that wall, and it took Vegard a few minutes to locate the tiny puncture on one of the higher shelves, obscured from view between some old childhood comics and a VHS copy of Pulp Fiction. A glance at the layer of dust coating this shelf suggested discovery of the damage by his little brother would be unlikely. Without hesitation he pushed his screwdriver flush through the wall.

That same day Vegard moved his bed over to that wall, telling himself he just fancied a furniture reshuffle, but secretly knowing otherwise. The hole happened to provide a good vantage point to his brother's bed, with its messy sheets and crumpled navy duvet. That very night he learnt that kneeling on his own mattress afforded him a prime view of the Bård Ylvisåker show. His brother, Illuminated by the moon's glow, took small, shuddering breaths as he pumped the flesh between his legs. Vegard would never forget the illicit thrill of the first time he took himself in hand and matched Bård stroke for stroke. He knew it was fucked up, but the sight was simply too irresistible. For years he had repressed those feelings, knowing he could never reach out and take what he craved. Yet now he could watch, and that would have to be enough. It was sweet, delicious torture.

Yet Vegard it wasn't just Bård’s solo fun Vegard was a willing spectator to. Both brothers worked at their daily rehearsals and their nightly stage shows, but they also played hard. Bård in particular flirted freely with adoring women (and sometimes men), and it was when he brought the lucky ones home that Vegard would assume his position, indulging in this voyeuristic pleasure.

* * *

The door clicked, and Vegard sat up straight in his bed. Despite the late hour he had been awake, waiting. Low mumurs and giggles echoed through the corridor. It was only when he heard the door open and shut in the adjacent room that he carefully rose and peeked through the hole, already feeling the stirrings of an erection.

 

> _The girl looked nervous, her face was a little flushed and she kept biting her lip as she sat on the bed, watching Bård undress. Pretty young thing. Maybe she doesn't do this sort of thing very often. Bård stripped down to his boxers (the pale blue ones with the white waistband), and joined her on the bed. She was wearing a halter top which fastened at the back of her neck. She didn’t even notice he had untied it until he had her nipple in his mouth…_

The nocturnal activities had long since ended, yet Vegard's work wasn't done. Under the concentrated light of his bedside lamp he diligently wrote his account, documenting every pertinent detail from foreplay until the moment of completion. The ritual was always the same. He would watch, he would wank, he would write. When done, he smiled, satisfied that he would be able to look back and recall with clarity every sight and sound. Every delicious detail was documented in that little black notebook he replaced under his mattress right before he drifted off to sleep.

It was only when he would wake the next morning that the old, familiar feelings of shame would creep in. Why couldn’t he shake these sordid desires and simply take pleasure in his own pleasures and not those of his brother? Yet the truth was everything was always better when Bård was around. They worked together, they lived together and they spent most of their spare time together. It was only when Bård would head off for post-work celebrations–alone or with the band–that they were divided. Of course Bård always nagged his brother to join him, and Vegard often obliged; but more often than not it meant hooking up. This was one part of Bård’s life that his brother wished to be more intimately involved with, and Vegard could barely suppress the gnawing jealousy watching his younger brother turn up the charm for the object of his desire. That’s not to say Bård was inconsiderate; he was an excellent wingman. Yet no matter how lovely the woman was that Vegard brought home, his thoughts would inevitably creep to the man in the next room. It was often the sounds of his brother fucking on the other side of that thin wall that really got him going. Through months of quiet observation it was easy to imagine just what Bård was doing. It was easy to imagine that he was the recipient of his brother’s loving treatment. Every blowjob, no matter how mediocre, was enhanced by the enduring vision of his brother kneeling before him, lovingly servicing him. As much as Vegard tried to drag himself back to his lover, it was thoughts of his brother that took him over the brink.

* * *

Applause. Better still, a standing ovation. The brothers were centre stage, bowing theatrically as they soaked up the admiration of the packed theatre crowd. This moment, this feeling, it was better than planes, better than his mother’s prune cake. _Better than sex._ At that moment Vegard stole a glance as his brother, eyes shining and beaming broadly, looking more beautiful than he had any right to be. Okay, maybe it wasn’t better than sex. But the fact that he was up there doing it with the person he loved most in the world made it a very close second. There he was thinking of sex again. He had to be careful to keep his errant thoughts under control. There would be time to indulge later.

They were still riding the high of yet another successful show as they jogged into their dressing room. Neither brother could suppress the sheer joy they were feeling, both giggling as they switched on the lights and Bård immediately got to work loosening his bow tie. Vegard risked a glance at his brother. His hair was beginning to grow long, and golden tufts were sticking out in all directions from where he was continually fussing with it. Bård had just turned twenty, and yet his face still harboured that angelic, boyish innocence. However, Vegard knew that under the starchy white shirt and smart tuxedo pants was the long, lithe body of a man. As the months and years passed it was getting harder to keep his thoughts straight. It was getting harder to avert his gaze as his brother unbuttoned his shirt and cast it aside. Vegard’s eyes followed a trail from Bård’s clavicle, down passed his nipples, across his stomach and down to the faint v-shape of his pelvis, which seemed to point tantalisingly to the part of his brother he coveted the most.

Bård kept up an almost constant stream of chatter as they changed out of their stage outfits. He was always like this after a show, and Vegard had long since learnt that answering with the occasional “okay” and “right” was sufficient to keep his brother bubbling along contentedly. “We should go out” He announced suddenly after pulling on a fresh t-shirt.

Vegard didn’t feel up to going out, but on the other hand he didn’t want to deny Bård his fun. “I heard the band are heading to that new bar. Why don’t you go with them?”

“Don’t you want to come?” Bård replied, confusion evident on his features.

“I’m too tired”. Vegard said, fingering the bow tie he had just removed. The truth was Vegard knew exactly what ‘going out’ meant for Bård, and he didn’t have the energy to hook up with anybody. He didn’t even have the energy to stand by and watch as Bård hooked up either. Lately it seemed his secret pastime wasn’t providing him with sufficient satisfaction. All too often he found himself yearning to be on the other side of that wall.

“Is something wrong?” Bård walked over to where Vegard sat and placed his hand on his shoulder.

“No” he lied.

“Look, we don’t even have to go out with the band”, Bård reasoned. “Let’s just get some drinks at a bar and see where the night takes us. I bet I can find you a nice girl”

“I don’t want a nice girl” Vegard muttered, lacing up his trainers.

“Okay, a nice guy?” Bård countered dryly, no trace of humour in his voice.

“Hey, it’s only you who is into that kind of stuff!” Vegard laughed, his sour mood dissipating.

Suddenly Bård leaned in, and his breath was warm on Vegard cheek as he whispered in his ear. “Don’t knock it until you’ve tried it”. He backed away and gave Vegard a suggestive wink that sent a jolt through his system. He had to admit he was sort of coming around to the idea of going out with his brother. Bård clearly desired his company, and Vegard relished the attention. Vegard reluctantly agreed, to his brother’s delight.

They walked briskly through the streets of Bergen until Bård pulled Vegard into a bar he hadn't visited or even noticed before. It took Vegard only a few seconds of surveying his surroundings to figure out why.

"This is a gay bar" He stated, staring incredulously at Bård.

"Yep"

"Why?"

"Why not?" Bård retorted, giving an easy shrug of his shoulders.

Bård found them a small booth and ordered Vegard to sit as he headed to the bar. Vegard risked another glance around. Having never been to a gay bar before, he wondered if he would get checked out, but no one glanced his way. The music was loud, but not unbearable, so he was content to sit back and watch the world buzz around him. After a few minutes Bård returned with a tray full of bright green shots.

"No way" Vegard stated, wrinkling his nose in distaste at the row of tiny glasses.

"Yes way”. Bård ordered, handing Vegard a shot and reaching for one of his own. Vegard knew his brother was a stubborn little shit, so he quickly downed the potent liquid. He didn’t know what was in that shot glass; all he could taste was liquid fire. He felt the flames licking his throat as it went down. Not skipping a beat, Bård nudged another shot towards Vegard. “I don't know what is wrong lately, but you seem so tense. The shots ought to loosen you up".

After a little more cajoling Vegard was eventually persuaded to sink back two more. He had never been a big drinker, so it didn't take long for the heady sensation to kick in. The effect was so immediate it felt like the fiery substance was coursing through his veins. Vegard wondered if his brother felt it the same way. Bård was being extra chatty, but as the alcohol worked its nullifying powers Vegard struggled to make out the words and soon gave up altogether. He was deriving much more pleasure from simply watching Bård form the words with those irresistible lips. Soon his devious subconscious came to fore, and he found himself fighting hard not to reach out and brush away the strand of fair hair that had fallen into Bård’s face. He caught his reflection in the mirror on the wall. He was grinning that full, goofy smile. Despite himself, he was having fun.

He didn’t know how Bård persuaded him to get up and dance; probably the same sorcery he had used to get Vegard out and drunk in the first place. He surmised that he was too far gone to resist. The tiny dance floor was packed, forcing their bodies close together. Vegard felt an arm drawing him close, and soon they were moving together and giggling at the cheesy music. Even in his slightly inebriated state he knew better than to read anything into the body language, intense stares and playful touches. Long ago he had made peace with the fact that this could never be possible. Well, not so much ‘made peace’ as grudging acceptance.  

Unlike most times they went out like this, Bård never so much as glanced at anybody else. The night was for them and them only. Yet the night had to end sometime, and Vegard knew that time had come when they sat back down and Bård’s head immediately drooped on his shoulder. As much as he would’ve loved to stay like that and stroke Bård soothingly and feel his breath close to his own lips, he knew it was time to call it a night. It took a surprising amount of force to shake his brother awake, but as soon as he was up and out in the open air his energy was restored. Bård insisted they walk the twenty minutes back to their messy apartment. The cold air sobered up Vegard somewhat. They chattered away, breaking into song at one point. It was just a little improvised ditty that had them dissolving in fits of giggles as they finally burst through the front door.

Vegard headed into his room still smiling, but he had barely removed his shoes and jacket before Bård followed him there, clutching his acoustic guitar and smiling broadly. Without a word he handed the guitar to his big brother and sank down onto the bed. Vegard checked the strings before launching into a melody to perfectly complement the little song they had made. They both loved moments like this, when an idea would form and grow from seemingly nothing.

“Hold on!” Bård declared loudly. “This is gold, we need to write this down!” He looked around the room, checked the bed and looked down at his feet. Vegard was too busy quietly strumming to notice Bård pluck the little black book from the narrow space between the bed and the wall. It was only when he noticed his brother had fallen silent that he looked up. Bård was staring at him, with a look of shock and disbelief. The alcohol had slowed down Vegard’s thought processes somewhat, but Bård holding up the book to his face brought him rapidly up to speed.

“Vegard. What’s this?”


	2. Intervention

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bård found out Vegard's dirty little secret...

Bård really thought nothing out of the ordinary when he spotted the little notebook down the side of his brother's bed. Vegard often kept a pen and paper handy for making memos and stuff. Bård immediately started flicking through, looking for a clean page to jot down the song they had made up. All too often they got drunk and forgot their ideas before they were fully formed, so he thought it only sensible they document this spontaneous moment of brilliance. Yet he was stopped in his tracks when a sentence jumped out at him from one of the pages.

 

> _He fucked her hard against the wall where I couldn't see_

Wait, was Vegard writing erotic fiction? And bad erotic fiction at that? Curiosity willed him on further, and his eyes adjusted to focus on Vegard's scruffy scrawls.

 

> _I don't think he knew I was home, because he was loud. The sounds Bård was making were such a turn on._

Stunned, he immediately stopped reading that particular passage and started skimming through the rest of the book. At the head of every entry was a date. Some notes were brief, only a paragraph long. Others were a lot longer. He didn't linger on the details, but instead honed in on key words, such as 'fuck', 'lick' and of course, 'Bård'. This wasn't erotic fiction. It was erotic...fact.

Half a minute had passed, and Bård had lost his voice. It was simply far too much to process in such a short period of time. The thoughts and feelings that flooded his system were like a heady, potent cocktail. Shaking, he closed the book and turned to his brother. Vegard looked so innocent, strumming a sweet tune with a serene smile, curls tumbling into his face. It just seemed so at odds with the unsettling new discovery.

"Vegard, what's this?"

"Huh?" Vegard looked up sleepily, with a dreamy look on his face. It was quite something to see the tranquility drain from his brother's countenance in the seconds when realisation dawned upon him.

“What is this?” Bård repeated, staring straight into his brother’s eyes. Vegard couldn’t seem to form words. Instead he lunged forward to wrench the book from Bård’s grip, but Bård was too fast. He stood up from the bed, backing away as he took in his brother’s stricken expression.  Bård opened the book again, skimming through in disbelief.

“It’s about me” Bård stated simply, voice quiet and low. Bård shut the book, looking thoughtful as he turned it over in his hands a few times. Frustratingly Vegard would not meet his gaze, instead scanning the room frantically, looking at the ceiling, the floor, anything that wasn’t his brother. Finally he stared down at his clenched hands, wringing them and fidgeting on the spot.

“Look at me” Bård’s ordered, in a low, gravelly voice that seemed unfamiliar even to himself. Vegard slowly and reluctantly dragged his gaze up to Bård. Bård could sense his brother’s desire to flee, because he recognised the feeling in himself. He wanted to knock himself out and forget what he had seen. However, he knew that denial was a futile waste of energy, and besides; he had so many questions. He trapped Vegard under the weight of his stare.

“Jesus, Bård. I don’t even know what to say. It is what it is”. Vegard ran his hands through his curls as the words rushed forth, and Bård heard a gasp. He couldn’t be entirely certain it wasn’t him.

“So, you’ve been watching me for… how long?”

“Does it matter?” Vegard replied feebly, looking smaller and paler than Bård could ever remember. Bård supposed it didn’t matter. It didn’t matter whether Vegard had spied on him once or a thousand times. It was still a violation of the trust and understanding they had built over their years as brothers and colleagues. He wasn’t sure if they could ever come back from this. 

There were other questions he needed to know the answers to, like ‘why?’ and ‘what does this mean?’ Yet the words stuck in his throat. He felt that no verbal explanations would hold any weight to the black book that sat in his palms. He threw the book into Vegard's lap. "Read it to me?" Despite the inflection at the end of the sentence, this was no question, no request. This was a demand.

"What?" Vegard whispered. Bård noticed he was now grasping the duvet, knuckles white from clenching so hard.

"This book is about me. Don't you think I have a right to know what is in there?"

“No, I can’t. I’m so, so sorry. You can have it! I don’t even…” Vegard stammered, on the verge of tears.

“Shut up Vegard!” Bård exclaimed, louder than he had intended. “Please. Just do as I say. Read to me”. He didn't know why, but he needed to hear Vegard read the words. Maybe he wanted to humiliate or punish him for the violation. Maybe it was to seek confirmation that the writings in this book were in fact the sordid inner workings of the mind of Vegard, his beloved brother.

 _Brother._ The very word had always been synonymous with comfort, safety, familiarity. Yet this situation the brothers found themselves in was anything but. Vegard seemed frozen, jaw hanging open and kind brown eyes pleading for mercy.

"Go on then" Bård insisted, straining to keep the emotion out of his voice.

Vegard opened a random page and read aloud:

 

> _October 26th 2001._
> 
> _Tonight he brought home a man._

Bård watched his brother choke at the end, as if trying to swallow a bitter pill that just wouldn’t go down. He looked up at him with a look that could only be described as pitiful. Yet Bård held firm. “Go on”, he repeated.

 

> _They were already undressing when they burst into the room. The man must’ve been at least 2 metres tall. Short, dark hair and muscular physique. He had a tattoo sleeve, it looked like some sort of animal motif, maybe a wolf?_

Bård felt his jaw clench. He remembered the man in question. It had been a fun night, but the thought that Vegard had been witness to it filled him with an indescribable, inexplicable feeling.

 

> _Bård was sat at the foot of the bed, and the man didn’t hesitate to pull down his boxers. Bård wasn’t fully hard but he only needed a few strokes to get there._

Vegard suddenly faltered, hesitant once more. Bård noticed a tear falling silently down his flushed cheek. Instead of pushing him verbally Bård simply waited, and after an agonising silence Vegard continued.

 

> _It was a little disappointing. As much as I love it watching Bård getting a blow job, he just looks so pretty with a mouth full of cock..._

Bård had heard enough. He wrenched the book out of Vegard’s hands and cast it aside onto the floor. Finally their eyes met again, and Bård was suddenly overwhelmed. This was Vegard. His rock, his constant. The person who meant the most to him in the world.

Yet, this was Vegard, the man who had shaped and defined every sexual experience Bård had ever had. The one he had wanted his whole life. His eyes never left his brother as he sat down beside him on the bed. He moved in slowly, cautiously, his heart banging like a drum as their lips touched. It was the briefest of kisses, but Bård put everything into it. His fury, his sorrow. His longing. As Bård withdrew the look of surprise on Vegard’s face would’ve been comical if it wasn’t for the seriousness of the situation.

“Wh-what are you doing?” Vegard eventually croaked.

“Kissing you”, Bård replied softly, bringing his hand up to rest on Vegard’s cheek and feeling the heat that emanated from his skin. Vegard gasped at the touch, eyes fluttering shut. Bård drew in close again, close enough to count every one of those eyelashes that splayed so beautifully across his brother’s cheekbones.

“I thought you were angry” Vegard’s voice was small and shaky, and Bård could feel him trembling. Whether it was from fear, or something else entirely, he couldn’t tell.

“I’m fucking furious” Bård admitted, yet there was no hint of fury in his voice. Because really the anger he felt towards Vegard was overridden by far more powerful emotions; ones he had suppressed for as long as he could remember.

“I don’t understand, I–“ Vegard’s words were pacified by Bård’s lips, kissing him more deeply and passionately than he had kissed anyone ever before. All his life, his feelings for his brother were akin to hero worship.  His feelings were so overwhelming they had spilled over beyond the confines of societal norms before he was even aware of it. His feelings for Vegard had coloured all his sexual experiences. During his first same-sex liaison with a boy from theatre school it had been impossible not to think of him. The boy was hot, but he had nothing on Vegard; the only commonality being deep brown eyes that looked almost black in the artificial light of the toilet cubicle. It hadn't been great, but subsequent experiences were better as he grew in confidence. The feelings only grew, necessitating the need to hold them inside. Eventually he reached a point where thoughts of his brother no longer concerned him; he considered them harmless fantasies which heightened the experience. Yet he never lost his grip on reality. Dragging the real Vegard to such depths had been simply unthinkable, impossible. That is, until he discovered the hole.

It had been a rare day off, and he had found himself exceptionally bored. He had suddenly decided to do some sketching. He didn't draw very often, but he remembered that he had an old sketchbook hidden away on his shelving unit. He was perusing through the dusty items on one of the higher shelves when a dark spot on the wall caught his attention. On closer inspection he noticed that it was a hole, not more than one centimetre in diameter, which perforated clean through the wall into the neighbouring room. His brother's room. He had no idea how long the hole had been there for, but it certainly hadn't been there when Bård had assembled the shelf over a year before. He went to see if it was noticeable in Vegard's room, but the door was locked. Stupid, paranoid Vegard. He had been in the habit of locking his room when out for years, extra vigilant about keeping his possessions out of reach of burglars. Or at least that's what he'd always told Bård.

He had meant to bring up the question of the hole when Vegard got home that day, but he had forgotten. At this point it didn't occur to him that there was anything furtive or sneaky about the hole. The thoughts only entered his mind a few nights later when he had been indulging in his favourite solo pastime. He happened to look up at the hole. Ever since he had first noticed it he could no longer not see it. It was so bloody obvious. The thought entered his mind that if Vegard was looking through that hole he would be able to see his him jerking off. He tried to dispel the thoughts as they entered his head, but it always seemed that any thoughts of Vegard made him that much more aroused. It was the very idea of Vegard watching him that led to his climax. He had to admit that lately he had been none-too-careful about keeping the noise down. 

For months he had been hoping for an opportune moment to raise the question of ‘the hole’. Now to finally have confirmation that his fantasies were based in truth was both thrilling and terrifying. To suddenly realise that the confusing, sometimes heart-wrenching feelings he had held within were possibly shared by the object of his desires… well he pulled Vegard closer, seeking tangible confirmation in his lips, his skin. That was exactly the sort of confirmation Vegard gave, enthusiastically, as soon as the fear and dread had been pushed away by the force Bård exerted upon him. They pushed against each other, until Bård felt Vegard yielding to him, just as he expected he would. He had ended up on top of Vegard, pinning him to his own bed with his body weight. Bård was unwilling to break off the kiss, for fear his brother would protest or voice his doubts or just say something about how inherently _wrong_ this all was. Yet as he felt Vegard grow beneath the possibility of them stopping grew smaller. There really was no pause point. No rewind.

Bård finally pulled away, not wanting to stop but knowing it was necessary in order for them to push things further. He didn’t know what he wanted, except that he wanted more. He reached for Vegard’s shirt, meeting no resistance as he peeled it off. Soon his own shirt joined Vegard's on the floor. Bård’s hands roamed over his brother’s chest, feeling the soft downy hairs of his chest as he leaned in and kissed his neck. It was only then that Vegard spoke again, and Bård could feel the vibration of his vocal cords against his lips.

“We shouldn’t” he grunted, with little to no conviction. Bård responded by reaching down to unfasten Vegard’s belt. The belt was stiff, and removing it required the use of both of his hands. Bård stopped kissing and instead focused his attentions on pulling the tight leather out from the belt loops. “No Bård, we need to–“ was all Vegard managed to get out before Bård was on him again, eager to press himself against his brother and feel his weight and warmth. The last protestations died away as Bård’s hand slipped underneath the waistband of Vegard’s boxers and reached for his cock, which was now fully hard and straining against the tight denim. As Bård’s thumb ran over the tip and smeared in the drop of precome that had collected there, Vegard emitted a choked grunt. Bård was certain he hadn’t heard anything sexier.

His heart was racing as he pulled off Vegard’s jeans, and his brother just lay back staring up at the ceiling and panting as Bård scooted down between his legs. Bård ran his palms flat up Vegard’s thighs, feeling their warmth and solidity, and looked in awe at the barely-contained bulge in his tight, black boxer shorts. Vegard lifted his head and for the first time looked Bård straight in the eye of his own volition. The look in his eyes was unlike anything Bård had seen before; so different from the timid and fearful expression he had seen in them earlier. He swiftly pulled down Vegard’s boxers, enjoying the satisfying smack as his rock-hard cock landed against his abdomen. Bård had seen his brother naked before, but it was nothing like this. He had often gone to bed wondering what Vegard looked like fully-hard. The reality was far more unreal than anything he had ever dreamt. Despite his arousal, he wanted to savour this moment. He sneaked a few rubs at his own member before coming down close to Vegard’s cock, kissing it softly. He looked up at Vegard, recalling what he had written about how good he looked giving head. Bård was more than happy to show Vegard how good it felt.

He closed his mouth around Vegard’s perfect cock, enjoying the appreciative sounds he started making immediately. He had done this many times before, but never had the act turned him on as much as it did right now. He gripped the base of the shaft as he glided up and down expertly, making sure he looked up at Vegard as it seemed to drive the older man wild. As he got more and more aroused his hips bucked up from the bed, so Bård pinned him down as he continued the loving treatment. Normally he didn’t really care for swallowing, but he wanted to do that for Vegard. He wanted to taste him more than anything. Bård knew Vegard was close as the sounds he was making took on a low, sonorous tone, almost animalistic. It was when Bård grazed his thumb over Vegard’s puckered hole that he came suddenly, and Bård struggled to swallow the acrid substance that filled his mouth.

Bård kissed his brother’s spent cock once before crawling up the bed and watching Vegard regain his composure. He watched his chest rise and fall as he worked to regulate his laboured breathing. To think he had been the cause of it brought Bård more satisfaction than he had felt from any sexual act before. How could this be so wrong when it felt so good? After a minute Vegard turned towards Bård, and stared intently at his jeans as he worked to undo them. Bård could tell he was nervous and unsure.

“You don’t have to” Bård whispered softly, once again touching his hand to his brother’s flaming cheek.

Vegard bit his lip, shaking his head before replying emphatically. “But I want to. So, so badly. I want everything, I–“ once again he silenced Vegard with a kiss, and with ease unfastened his own jeans and shimmied out of them. Vegard stared down at his cock as in reverence. “Can I touch you?”

Bård chuckled as he guided Vegard’s hand to his erection. Frustratingly, the grip on his shaft was not quite firm enough, and when Vegard’s hand started to move up and down it was not quite fast enough. He reminded himself that Vegard was new to this, and had probably never touched a cock that wasn't his own. Yet in a way Vegard’s timidity was in itself a turn on. The gentle touch was arousing and Bård found himself growing painfully hard. Vegard’s confidence increased with every stroke, and he soon worked up a pace and pressure that had Bård writhing on the bed sheets. Then Vegard bit him on the weak spot on his neck; evidently well-informed on his brother’s erogenous zones through months of careful, quiet observation.

“Please, Vegard” Bård uttered, panting. He wasn’t even sure exactly what he was begging for. He reached out for Vegard, clinging tightly, clawing at his chest as he pumped him closer and closer to rapture.

Vegard took the cue to lean in and whisper in Bård’s ear. “I love watching you come”. Bård fleetingly thought how Vegard sounded so much more confident than he had only moments before. “Are you going to come for me?”

The words had a powerful effect on Bård, and the culmination of all the tumult he had experienced; the anger, the lust, the love… it was all released in a cataclysmic eruption that shot through him to his extremities. Minutes passed with Bård incapable of doing little else but stare up at the ceiling, coming down from an incredible orgasm. He looked over at Vegard, whose face was glistening with a sheen of sweat from his exertions. He always thought his brother was beautiful; yet seeing him undone like this, eyes wide open in wonder, brought a whole new dimension to his beauty. With his subsiding orgasm he anticipated that the weight of their actions would push down heavy on his chest, but in fact he felt the complete opposite. He felt lighter than air, free of tension and absolved of the guilt he had felt for years over his inappropriate feelings. He knew they would need to address what had happened, and that the path ahead was anything but smooth. Yet knowing his brother would be beside him alleviated the burden somewhat. He reached out and felt for Vegard’s hand, interlacing the rough, calloused fingers with his own. Vegard squeezed his hand tightly.

“Bård?” His words were slurred from languor, eyes closed, lips parted.

“Hm?”

“Let’s knock the wall down”.

"Ok"


End file.
